


Timeout

by versus_versus



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Brotp, Drinking & Talking, Drinking to Cope, F/F, F/M, Gen, Healing, Hux and Phasma are besties, I'm not sure what other tags to add but lmk if you see any it needs, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, some serious shit has gone down, this is a bit of an aside from the usual plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 19:39:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6022366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/versus_versus/pseuds/versus_versus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a brief sidestep from <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/5819314">Different Forms of Combat</a> we see Carol Phasma's POV on the shit that's gone down between Hux and Kylo. Recommended to be read after ch 7, but could technically be read as a one-shot.</p><p>Drunk!hux and drunk!phasma talk through a lot of shit. A lot. Of. Shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Timeout

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is fairly cathartic for me. There's a lot of stuff I've been keeping bottled up, personal mistakes, victories, and questions. Maybe I dealt with things correctly. Maybe I didn't. Either way, writing this made me feel a bit better.
> 
> Warnings for the immediate aftermath of domestic abuse and the longer-lasting impacts. All involved parties really need to get their shit together.
> 
> If you are or have ever been in this kind of situation, feel free to reach out. I'm versus-a-blank-paper on tumblr, and I'm always willing to talk to people about their experiences.

The day had been shit. The group of administrators she’d been tasked with running around campus most of the day had been right nightmares, and she’d missed her bus. On top of the nastiness of the day, she had a ton of homework. There was enough time to get it done, but she was foregoing the gym for the night. Too much to do.

The bus, when she caught it, was as slow as ever. Time seemed to drag. At least she could relax a bit when she got home.

* * *

The first clue that something was wrong was that the front door was unlocked.

Carol frowned but shrugged, shoving her key in her coat pocket and going in. She pulled her shoes off, flipping them onto the doormat and dumping her backpack on the chair. She tossed her coat at the coat rack, managing to fling the sorry thing over the top to cover most of the other stuff.

Her stomach rumbled a reminder that it was 7pm and she’d missed lunch. Food sounded amazing.

The second clue was the puddle of red on the counter.

Her mind flew through the possibilities and settled on the most obvious. 

“Hux?!”

“What?” the voice came from his bathroom, where a light showed under the door.

“What’s with the blood in the kitchen, are you alright?” She opened the bathroom door, slow enough to make sure he wasn’t sitting on the floor behind it.

It took a second for her brain to process what she was seeing, but when she did, she sucked breath in. Hux sat on the floor, his hand holding a towel to the back of his head, his arm and half his face covered in red.

Blood. Shit, that was blood.

That was…a lot of blood.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

“More like who.” His eyes flicked up to her, the left one weirdly bright against the dark red that had started to ring it.

“Oh my god.” Everything clicked into place and she very nearly panicked. No, she could do this. Deep breath. First things first, treatment. Ice to keep the swelling down. “I’m going to grab you ice.”

She rummaged around the freezer and came back with a packet of frozen peas, pulling off her nice sweater as she went. She snagged a t-shirt off her bathroom door and tossed it on, returning to the bathroom. Hux was still slumped on the floor, his expression slack, completely out of it. She sat down on the floor and helped him press the makeshift ice pack to the top of the towel he was using to soak up the blood.

“How bad does it look?”

“Uh. Not good.” She dug a mirror out from under the sink and held it out to him.

He sighed, the side of his face that wasn’t swollen creasing into a miserable frown. “It’s my own fault.”

That wasn’t the kind of explanation she was going to put up with. “No. This kind of shit is never the victim’s fault.”

“I said some serious shit.”

Something about the way he said it told her almost everything she needed to know. The pit in her stomach sank. “You didn’t bring up his dad…?”

“Oh, that’s only the tip of the iceberg.” He sounded like he might break into desperate laughter, his voice bitter and cracking.

“Jesus. What the fuck is wrong with you? Both of you?” She touched his shoulder, leaning him forward so she could take a look at the gash under the towel. “This is really nasty. Oh god. I’m so sorry. I never should have set you two up, I should’ve known it would blow up.”

“No, there was no way you could have.”

“We need to get you to the ER. Your face needs to get stitched up.”

“They’re going to ask questions.”

Of course they would. She was more concerned about Hux’s immediate recognition of that. “Then we’ll figure out a lie on the way there. I’ll say I wasn’t there but that I trust you. Come on.”

* * *

The trip to the hospital was quiet. Hux leaned back in the passenger seat and closed his eyes. Neither of them spoke.

The hospital was fairly quiet, but they still sat in the waiting room for awhile. After about fifteen minutes, she remembered something Lucky had mentioned once. She spoke to the nurse at the front desk. “Can you see if there’s a plastic surgeon on call? To stitch him up?”

She looked up at Carol. “Pardon?”

“I mean, it’s his face. If there’s a plastic surgeon on call…”

“Oh, right. I think they already called her, but I’ll double check.”

* * *

She sat in the waiting room, watching the time tick slowly by. The police had brought a man in, drunk off his ass, and there was a mother and her toddler, who had shoved a lego brick up his nose. The police didn't stay, and she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Hux hadn't wanted to involve them, and she was conflicted. On one hand, they really should file a report, but on the other...it was Kylo. Her gut reaction was to try to protect them both as best as she could, and if that meant not filing a report, fine.

One of the nurses came over and spoke to her quietly. “Miss, can you tell us what your relation to him is and what happened?”

“He’s my roommate. I don’t really know, I got home from work and he was a mess.”

“Do you know who might have done it?”

She hesitated. If Hux hadn’t given his name, she didn’t feel that it was her place to do so either. “Not sure. He probably knows though.”

"He declined to give a statement." The nurse nodded and walked away. She spoke in a hushed voice to the woman filing paperwork. Another nurse perhaps? Carol barely listened until she caught a couple quiet words, “…her story matches his, I don’t think it was her.”

In a rush, it all came down on her shoulders. They suspected her, to some extent. 

She felt a spiraling sense of horror, and sat down again to wait.

* * *

They sat in the car on the way home, quiet again. The three stitches it had taken to close his cheek up were small, almost delicate. The ones on the back of his head were…less so.

He sat in the passenger seat, silent for awhile. “You know, the stitches don’t even piss me off that much. Like the ones in the back of my head are fine, my hair will grow out and hide them. But the fact that they had to shave my hair and I can’t hide them now…” His voice was exhausted, but she glanced over at him and could see he was desperately reaching for any kind of humor he could find in the situation.

“Shave it the rest of the way. You know, back and sides. An undercut might suit you?”

He sighed. “It’d be so much easier if they hadn’t had to shave that patch.”

“I actually used to cut my own hair, remember when I had half my head shaved? I could do yours tonight, if you don’t have time to try and get it fixed before tomorrow. The stitches are going to show no matter what you do…might as well own it.”

He stared out the windshield. “Yeah. That’d be great.”

When they got home, she helped him with his hair. After, he headed to his room without complaint or comment, nothing but an approving nod to her work on his hair and a sigh.

* * *

When she got up the next morning, the coffee pot was already running. Nothing surprising about that. When the timer went off, Hux failed to appear.

That was surprising. And worrying.

“Hux? Your coffee’s done.” 

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a bit.” His voice came from the bathroom. If he held to his usual schedule, he’d have showered already and would be finished in the bathroom. So he was off schedule. The thought worried her.

She tapped on the bathroom door. “You alright?”

“It’s open.” She opened the door and heard him sigh. “Depends on your definition of ‘alright’.”

He stood in front of the mirror, dressed to go to campus but looking like…well, like he’d been punched in the face. The stitches on the back of his head, the bruise, and the stitches on his cheek were bad enough, but he also looked tired. She wondered if he’d actually slept. “I got up early to ice it. The swelling is down but this is a nightmare.”

“I can help you hide it, if you want. Not the stitches, but most of the bruise.”

He turned to her, surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah, give me a minute, I’ll be right back.”

She came back with her favorite tattoo concealer, half a dozen powders, and one of the bar stools from the kitchen. “Alright. I’m going to have you sit down. This is probably going to hurt a bit as I apply it.”

It took about twenty minutes to get right, but when she was finished, it was nearly impossible to tell he had a nasty black eye as well as the split skin and three stitches along his cheekbone.

“So. I’m done. It’s not perfect, but it’s quite a bit better. I can teach you how to do it yourself tonight, if you want. Or I can do it for you, either is fine.”

He was quiet for a minute, then nodded. “Can you teach me?”

“Mmhmm. Tonight. Promise.”

* * *

Somehow, she would never be sure how, he made it through the day. She got home and he was still on campus. Usually, she’d go to the gym, but the very thought of seeing Kylo made her stomach clench with anger.

When he finally got home, she could see the shadows under his eyes. The makeup had stayed, likely thanks to the tattoo concealer. He dropped his backpack, slumped on the couch, and fell asleep. 

At first, she thought that maybe it was just a nap, but after a couple hours of Hux being dead to the world, she reassessed the situation. He looked like hell. She’d help him again in the morning, if he wanted it. For now, he needed to sleep. Despite the fact that she knew he’d give her grief for ‘momming’ him, she scooped him up and carried him to bed. He woke, but the daze he was in made him seem almost drugged as she set him down, letting him sit on the edge of his bed.

“Hey, I’m going to help you get to bed, that ok?”

“…not sleeping well,” he mumbled.

“That’s alright, let’s just get you into bed so you can rest.”

As much as anyone else might have flinched away from the task, she’d taken care of him in worse states. When she’d stripped him down to boxers and undershirt, he slumped into his bed, shivering. She pulled as many blankets as she could find over him.

Carol stood there for a minute, looking at him. He still shivered, she could see it in the tension of his jaw. For the first time, she could see just how vulnerable he was. Hux didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve quite the way she did, and when he fell for someone, he fell hard. This mess just added insult to injury.

She sighed and left, hunting down the reheatable rice pack she usually used for cramps and tossing it in the microwave. When it was hot, she went back and tucked it under the covers with him and folded his clothes while she waited. 

The shaking subsided after a couple of minutes, and she let out a sigh of relief she didn’t know she was holding. She’d known from the moment she saw his bloodied face that things had gotten ugly, but she somehow hadn’t expected this.

It was going to be a rough week.

* * *

Hux made it through the next morning without comment on her help the night before. In all reality, that worried her more than the way he sat docile as she helped him cover the bruise up again. He seemed to get ready in a daze, expression empty and his usual morning grumpiness gone in the absence of any emotion.

On top of all of that, he forgot his travel mug of coffee when he left to catch the bus.

She grabbed it, vowing to swing by Professor Daala’s lab before classes. Hux wasn’t there when she arrived, but one of the other undergraduate assistants said he should be back. She scribbled a note and left it at the desk he shared with another assistant.

As much as she wanted to keep checking on him, she had to take care of her own business as well.

* * *

That was Thursday morning. Thursday evening saw her arriving home to find him in the kitchen, drinking.

She took a good look at him and sighed. This wasn’t quite how she’d planned to spend her evening, but if this was what Hux needed…she’d be there to scrape up the mess.

Carol gave him a look that said what she thought of his look. “Do me a favor and pour me a couple shots. I’m going to catch up with you, and then we’re going to have a discussion.”

Hux shot her a skeptical look but she shrugged. “If you’re going to try to drink him away, I’m joining you on your way to hell ‘cause I’m the one that introduced you.”

“Oh fuck that, don’t you go pulling a guilt trip on me like that.”

“It’s not a guilt trip. I’ve been looking forward to drinking my own pain away all week, ‘snaps. I’m going to catch up to you if you’re staying in, and if you’re not I’m going to put away the fifth on top of the fridge and go play something until I pass out.” She knew there were few things that would annoy him more, so she poured a bit of salt in the potential wound. “It’ll probably involve me screaming expletives at the screen, you know.”

He snorted and climbed from the bar stool, grabbing a glass from the shelf. “Fine. If you’re going to be like that, what do you want?”

“Shots first, then something to sip. How far in are you?” She looked at him, then at the bottle, judging him to be at least a couple drinks in. He wasn’t a terrible lightweight, but for her to get to that point, she’d have some catching up to do. 

He picked up the bottle, which was about a third of the way gone. “Uh, not that far.”

“That’s not an insignificant dent, for you.”

He shrugged. “Ehh.”

She threw on comfy clothes, knowing it would be a shit evening. Hux needed this, though. She’d seen his breakups before, and usually one night of really heavy drinking was enough to get him through it. He’d get irritable, close to crying, and by the time he broke through the barrier to somewhat hysterical laughter he’d be on his way to recovery. This time around though…she wasn’t sure. She returned to the kitchen in pajama pants, turning music on with her phone and letting it play through the bluetooth speakers. 

“Alright, hit me.” He waved a hand aimlessly at the double shot of vodka he’d put on the counter. She threw it back, poured another double, and before he could fully comprehend what was going on she’d thrown back four shots in rapid succession. He stared, always amazed by her ability to handle booze.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. You know you’re a lightweight compared to me.”

He made a face, then winced and made another face at the pain. “True. I can firmly say I’ve never tossed back four shots in less than a minute.”

* * *

An hour later, they were both still drinking, but they were in competition to see who’d had the shittiest week.

“I had four different assignments to grade for that class I TA.” His words had sped up, and she knew he was well on his way to being drunk. He was the sort whose brain sped up when he drank, to the extent that his mouth couldn’t keep up with his thoughts anymore. As soon as he started tripping over words, she’d slow him down and start making him push water.

She snorted. “Aren’t there like…a hundred kids?”

“A hundred and six. And one was a writing assignment.”

“So that’s why you had a stick up your ass all week. Well, besides the obvious.” His face twisted a bit, so she poured herself another shot and held it up as a toast. “Alright, you win.”

* * *

Two hours later, Carol was dancing around the kitchen as Hux rearranged the Tupperware cabinet. It’d started with dishes in the drying rack he’d decided to put away, and he’d almost lost it at the sight of the Tupperware cabinet. Mismatched lids and unstacked containers had wobbled precariously as he opened the door, and he’d pulled everything out and thrown it on the counter. She’d watched his hands start shaking as he pulled the Tupperware down, and that was a sign that she should cut him off. 

She poured glasses of water for each of them, and put one directly in the middle of the mess of plastic on the counter. He’d given her a surly look, but thrown half the glass back anyway. 

The jaunty lyrics sank into his overworked, fuzzy mind. _“I'll take my chances, I forgot how nice romance is, I haven't been there for the longest time.”_

He grimaced, trying to order the containers by size and failing somewhat spectacularly. “Whyyy do you have to play soppy bullshit?”

“I love Billy Joel, I grew up on this shit. Fight me.” She hummed, finding that a giggle bubbled up at the way his cheeks flushed even redder at her refusal.

“Ugh, no thanks.” He gave up on the Tupperware, sitting on the bar stool again. Carol slid his glass of water in front of him again, refilled. He sighed and drank part of it.

Her music did, to some extent, drag him out of his horrible mood, particularly when she started singing, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him on the bar stool. _“Woooaaaaaoooohhh, for the longest time!”_

He couldn’t keep from snorting at her antics. “Give me something that isn’t soppy and I’ll join you.”

And that’s how she found herself singing Bohemian Rhapsody in the kitchen at the top of her lungs, with Hux joining in in between bouts of hysterical laughter as she played air guitar on a pan she’d grabbed from the drying rack.

* * *

She never managed to get as drunk as he did. Maybe it was a good thing. He never got quite as drunk as he intended either. He never would have admitted it, but he was making a serious try for blackout drunk, and she seemed to know it. 

So 2am found him curled up with her on her bed, definitely not as drunk as he would have liked but whatever. He would take what he could get.

He curled into her side, alcohol making him noodle-limbed and loose-tongued. She was warm, thank goodness.

“Hey Carol.”

“Hm?”

“Carol.”

“What?”

“Dijyou ever think it was bad I’m bi? When we were still…”

She frowned. “Why would I?”

“Kylo thinks it’s shit.” The abject misery was clear in Hux’s voice. “Thought it was shit. Like ‘m not good enough for him.”

“Kylo can go fuck himself.”

Hux snorted. “Prob’ly already does.”

She couldn’t help laughing a bit at that. “Besides, he’s the one that’s not good enough for you.”

“He fuckin’ punched me.”

“That’s my point. Not good enough for you. You deserve better.”

“…but you’re his friend.”

“Yeah, but he can be really shit sometimes.”

Hux snorted again, the noise somewhere between a laugh and a squeak of abject misery.

“Hey, it’ll be alright.”

“Yeah, I know. Don’t give a fuck about him.” Hux had finally hit the point of slurring, and she could hear the blatant lie. 

She looked at him and could see the way he braced his shoulders as he said it, the bitterness in his voice. Of course he cared. If he didn’t care, it wouldn’t have hurt so badly. Hell, her heart hurt for his sake. She pulled him in for a hug, but he struggled for a moment and she let go. To her surprise, he shifted, scooting downward on the mattress so he could curl close, tucking his shoulder under her arm and wrapping his other arm around her. One leg hitched up around her waist and she fought to keep herself from laughing.

It didn’t bother her, but usually Hux had more reservations about being physically close. They’d settled things between them years ago, and she was fine with that. Hux, on the other hand, might have had a few reservations about being wrapped around her if he’d been sober.

Especially the fact that he was using her chest as a pillow.

He settled and she ran her hand through his hair, letting him settle and relax. It was the calmest she’d seen him since the incident. He was there for about twenty minutes before he lifted his head up a bit, gave her a wry look, and said, “You’re squishier than him.”

Ah. Well, it wasn’t an entirely unexpected reaction. He was leaning on her chest. “I’m a girl.”

“Yeah but you’re riiiiiiipped.” 

“So muscle squishes when it’s relaxed.”

He put his cheek back on her chest and sighed. “I hate being skinny, you know that?”

“It’s lean muscle.”

“I’m fucking skinny, don’ try to sugar coat it.” His words were acerbic. 

“You’re you, it’s alright.”

He was quiet for awhile, but eventually he dove back into the uncomfortable topic on the surface of his mind. “I don’t get where I went wrong.”

 _Oh no._ He was still on this track. “This isn’t your fault.”

“No, I mean, it is. He was a dick, I was a dick, I get it. But I don’t get why he would punch me.” He sighed but it did nothing to hide his frustration as he curled one of his hands in her shirt.

“Hux. Listen to me. There was no excuse for it.”

“I was an asshole.”

“That doesn’t justify it.”

“I’m stupid.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I’m a stupid, shitty person, and I deserved it.”

She grabbed his face and forced him to look at her. She hadn’t noticed before, but his eyes were glossy and close to tears. Shit. He was sinking into a mess of self-loathing faster than she’d realized. “No. No you didn’t. I don’t ever want to hear you say that again.”

“What, that I’m a shitty person and I deserved it?” His words were slurring more heavily now. “I fucking did, I brought his dad up. What kind of person brings up someone’s dead dad?”

“Look at me.” She stared him down. “You. Didn’t. Deserve. That. I’m going to keep saying it until you get it.”

“I’m a horrible person.”

She’d give him that, he wasn’t entirely wrong. “Fine. I’m not going to lie, sometimes you are.”

He sighed and flopped his head back on her chest overdramatically. “Caroooool.”

“What?”

“You don’ know what ’s like to be a shitty person. You’re real good.”

She sort of patted his head, making him sigh and relax again. “You know, most of the time you’re not so bad yourself.”

“When I’m not making fun of people cause their dad is dead.”

She sighed and conceded, “When you’re not making fun of people cause their dad is dead.”

He settled, content now that she’d admitted he’d been an asshole, and went to sleep.

* * *

The mild hangover when she woke up could have been worse. She’d felt worse, plenty of times. Dragging herself to the bathroom, she dug advil out of the cabinet and listened to the sound of the shower in the other bathroom. It ran, indicating that Hux was up. Probably horribly hung over, but he’d have to deal.

She knocked on the door. “You taking a sick day?”

“…no.”

 _Idiot._ “You should take a sick day. It’s Friday, you’ll have the weekend to put yourself back together. Look, if you really want, work on your thesis for Daala. Just don’t go to class today.”

“There’s attendance in my Tech Policy class.”

“Have you ever skipped class?”

“…no.”

“You’re a senior. Skip class this once. You’ll be better for it, trust me. Email them and say you’re sick.”

“I don’t want to lie.”

She sighed. “Have you puked this morning?”

There was a moment of quiet and running water. “…yes.”

“Then you’re sick. Email them and go back to bed. And drink some water first.”

* * *

She came home at lunch to check on him. He was asleep, thank goodness. 

After work, she texted him to check in.

_Hey, I think I’m going to go work out. You doing ok?_

_Yeah, fine. Working, probably will be up late. You do you, I’m fine_

It was enough confirmation for her. After work she slung her backpack in her car and headed to Millennium. She took deep breaths and braced herself to see Kylo. What she would say to him, she wasn’t sure. He’d punched her best friend in the face and very possibly broken his heart, and really, what did you say to that?

But entering the gym, there was no sign of him. She breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

It was only at the end of her workout that she realized something was wrong. Lucky pulled her aside and asked if she’d heard anything from Kylo, something that seemed off. Still, she couldn’t keep the bite of anger from her voice at Lucky’s question. “Not since he flat out punched Hux in the face.”

“He what?!?”

The conversation devolved from there and ended with Lucky dragging her to the office to talk to Lando.

* * *

As it turned out, no one had seen or heard from Kylo since Monday night. No one but Hux, it seemed.

Lucky and Lando called and texted, asking around to see if anyone had heard or seen anything. They even contacted his mother. Nothing.

By Friday night, Carol bit the bullet and texted him herself, trying to get some sort of answer. Still nothing.

Hux had locked himself up in his room, and she knew he was functioning on a higher level as she saw the coffee in the pot slowly decrease in fairly regular intervals. She saw him twice, briefly, between Friday morning and Saturday night, only on his brief forays from his room for coffee.

Lucky was beyond frustrated with concern. Carol had asked her if this was unusual for Kylo, and she’d very nearly yelled. Once she’d gotten a grip on herself, her low reply of, “Kylo is a danger to himself.” held a near terrifying weight behind it.

Sunday morning, they still hadn’t heard from Kylo, and Carol knew she had to ask.

* * *

Hux appeared, coffee mug in hand, and she was waiting for him, perched on a barstool in the kitchen. “Hey, I know you don’t want to talk about it, but have you heard from Kylo?”

His posture went from forward and determined, if tired, to cagey and nervous. “No. Why?”

“We…uhm,” how to explain this to someone who, by all rights, shouldn’t have to care? “We can’t find him.”

Hux poured his coffee slowly and she could see him processing the information. His answer, when it came, was measured, diplomatic, and almost disturbingly detached. “That’s…unfortunate. I’d recommend filing a missing person report.”

He clenched his jaw, nodded once, and turned back to his room.

* * *

She woke up in the middle of a night to a text from Lucky. _We’ve heard from him_

She struggled up, trying to text with sleep-addled fingers. _Where is he?_

_Not sure, but he’s in one piece. I’ll let you know if there are any issues_

Carol lay back down, unsure what to think.

* * *

No matter what she asked Lucky or Lando, they both maintained secrecy on where Kylo had gone. He was gone through the end of the semester, as she prepared for the last round of exams and tried to keep Hux on his feet. He went to get the stitches removed a few days after they'd put them in, and she could see he was going to have a scar, although perhaps it wouldn't be as bad as she'd first thought. The stitches in the back of his head stayed longer, and left a scar more like a railroad track than anything. Another bombshell dropped after Thanksgiving, when Hux came back to school lower than he’d been before. Low enough to ask her to stay in and drink with him that next weekend.

She agreed, sensing that he needed the chance to talk and get things off his chest. He’d been working himself to the bone, and while she’d heard bits and pieces from him about how much progress he was making, there was still no proper explanation for the depression that seemed to grip him after the holidays.

Three drinks in, he seemed pleasantly distracted, so she asked. “Alright, fess up. What’s eating at you?”

“Thanksgiving was shit.”

“Right, I gathered that. What happened?”

He was quiet for a minute. “My dad blew up at me again. I wasn’t even talking to him, I was talking to my mom, and she mentioned one of my exes.”

“And?”

“And he blew up because she mentioned a boyfriend.”

“You’re not out of the closet?!?" She gaped at him. "…weren’t out of the closet?” she corrected.

“I am! Was. Sort of.”

Carol took a deep breath. “Alright, I may need another drink for this. What the fuck kind of answer is that?”

He cringed a bit. “My mom knows. My dad has early onset Alzheimer’s, he knew, but…”

“Oh.” Carol looked thunderstruck. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry.” She stared for a second. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Hux shrugged, trying to pretend it didn’t matter. “What's the point in telling people? His short term memory is shot. I told him about a year before he was diagnosed, but we knew something was wrong before then. He was pissed at first but got used to it. And then he forgot.” She could see from his face that the memories came back in a painful rush. “I was talking to him on the phone once, and he asked if I was seeing anyone, and I answered without thinking. When I was seeing Royce, that idiot from my sophomore design class, remember? And he screamed at me over the phone for being gay and not telling him, and hung up. Didn’t talk to him again til mum said he’d forgotten the whole thing.”

“Shit.” Carol looked down at her hands. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. It’s just…even if we were still together, I couldn’t take him home to meet my family. I already know how my father would react, and even…look," Hux made a face. "Kylo is a piece of shit. But he doesn’t deserve that.”

She snorted. “That’s saying something, with as much as you were threatening him.”

“Yeah, really. Besides, he’s got his own messed up family dynamic to deal with, whatever that is.”

Carol nodded. “Yeah, sorry I can’t tell you more. All I know is that it was an accident or something. Sometimes I hear Lando or Lucky mention things in the gym. I don’t know much, but I know Kylo was there.”

For as quiet as Hux had been about Kylo for the past three weeks, he seemed ready to talk a bit. “What about his mom?”

She shrugged. “Works for some agency out in DC, I dunno who. They don’t talk.”

“And that’s it? No other family?”

“He’s got an uncle or something, Lucky said Kylo used to work for him before things with the family blew up.”

Hux sighed and put his head in his hands. “And I thought I had messed up family shit to deal with.”

* * *

The next day, Hux’s worry seemed to have taken a step down from its previous level, and he dove back into work on his senior design project. He seemed to turn inward, his strengths bouncing off of walls within him until it burst out in unbelievable rushes of work, as though he couldn’t put calculations and concepts down on paper fast enough. She knew he was working himself to the bone, but maybe that was best for him, at least until he got his head straightened out.

* * *

“Hey, I have a weird question for you.”

It was nearly midnight. Carol spun in her desk chair, surprised to find Hux on one of his rare forays from his room. With finals coming up, they'd both been locked down, studying. “What’s up?”

“Is there any way you’d work out with me?”

She blinked. “What?”

“I’m tired of feeling weak.”

“Are you kidding? You’re not weak.”

He shot her a skeptical look. “I’m tired of feeling like I am. I mean, look at me.”

“I told you before, it’s alright. So you’re lean, what’s wrong with that?”

“Oh, cut the crap. I’m skinny.”

She nodded somewhat reluctantly, remembering a certain conversation they’d had while drunk. “You think? But there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I’m tired of it.”

There was a long minute as she stared him down. He looked back, entirely unflinching for the first time in weeks. 

Something about him had changed. She could feel it. Maybe it was the obscene amount of work and coffee, maybe it was the backlash of everything that had happened, but he’d changed. He reminded her of tempered steel, something that had been strong but brittle, gone through hell, and come out tougher than before.

She took a deep breath. “Alright. When do you want to start?”


End file.
